


Breaking Point

by DarkxPrince



Series: SWTOR Prompt Collections [10]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 23:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7865815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkxPrince/pseuds/DarkxPrince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody has their breaking point, and Sharilia just discovered hers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Point

Sharilia kept her head down as she worked, the shock collar a constant weight upon her neck, trying to avoid the gaze of the Slave Overseers. Her limbs ached, breath shallow, sweat poured down her body, yet still she worked. She knew what would happen if she ever stopped; she had seen it ... experienced it herself plenty of times. The Overseers didn't even need a reason to punish a slave, sometimes they were just bored and wanted entertainment. So she worked, followed orders, didn't draw any unnecessary attention to herself and she survived this hell that was now her life.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sharilia saw another slave stumble and fall, though she herself didn't react or try to help her fellow slave. Some small instinctual part of her wanted to help, that nagging voice at the back of her mind that told her to reach out and wouldn't be quiet. Yet years ago, she just became a slave she found out firsthand what happens when slaves tried to help each other. She had only been ten or eleven years old, and one of the elderly slaves was struggling with the work load. Naturally she took it upon herself to help. That's when one of the Overseers noticed what she was doing, both of their shock collars blazed to life and sent them crashing to the ground screaming as the electricity surged through them. The Overseer addressed the other slaves, telling them the same would happen to anyone else who decided to help someone. And Sharilia could still clearly see the other slave's faces, see them bow their heads and return to their work, ignoring what was happening. It wouldn't be the last time that would happen. Eventually though, Sharilia learned to ignore it and merely concentrate on her work.

At night, when she curled up on what passed for a bed, she could hear some of the other slaves pray to their gods or the Force, yet she could no longer bring herself to pray with them. There was a time, when she was just a little girl, that she had been one of those slaves praying to Zabrak ancestors ... praying that her sister would somehow come and rescue her and free her from this life. Yet the years dragged on, no one came to rescue her or the other slaves, no ancestor answered her prayers and slowly but surely her faith turned to anger. Her anger at the slavers a constant burn within her chest, and her anger at her sister for not coming to rescue her burned even hotter. She knew though, what would happen if she had ever showed any of that anger towards the Overseers, and so it seethed within her, slowly burning away and giving her strength. Sometimes that burning anger was the only thing that kept her going: kept her on her feet when she thought she would collapse; kept her arms moving when she thought she could lift no more.

Suddenly gasping in pain and dropping to her knees, Sharilia barely contained the scream that bubbled to her lips. No … no no no no no no no no NO! How could she be so stupid! Lost in her thoughts she must have paused in her work, slowed down too much and drew attention to herself. Now an Overseer towered over her, his hand pressed down on that accursed remote, his voice echoing as he addressed the other slaves, "Seems like you all need a reminder of what happens when you don't work fast." As he pressed down on the remote again, Sharilia convulsed and screamed as fresh electricity arced across her body. "Soon a Sith Lord will be here and we expect you work your hardest. And if you don't ..." Sharilia screamed.

She glared up at the Overseer, watching as a maniacal grin spread across his face, convulsing as blinding pain shot through her again. She grit her teeth, feeling the anger churning and burning anew and filling her very being. Anger at the slavers collided with anger at her sister and roared into a fire burning within her so hot that it  _crackled_.

Something within her finally snapped.

Teeth grinding together, tears cascading down her face, Sharilia forced herself unto her hands and knees. Eyes narrowed as she glared up at the Overseer, lips pulled back in a snarl as she saw his face twist into confusion, hand pressing down on the remote. She could feel the electricity coursing through her, yet she felt no pain as she staggered to her feet. The Overseer backed away as she stalked forward, dropping the remote to the ground. Her foot smashed down on top of it yet still electricity arced along her body ... the electricity now fueled by a power Sharilia never knew she possessed.

She raised her arms ... and  _screamed_.

Yet it was so much more than just a simple scream: it was a rage induced roar, a pain filled howl, a sorrowful wail as years of anger and torment and misery finally found an outlet. It was the Overseer's turn to convulse as a current more powerful than simple electricity surged from her fingertips and slammed into him. Time lost meaning yet eventually she spent herself, the electricity fizzled out and she dropped to her knees. The smell of burnt flesh stung her nose, as she bit back the bile building at the back of her throat. Somewhere in the far back of her mind, her actions finally registered within her, breaking through the haze that had been her anger. She had _killed_ a Slave Overseer, she would surely be punished for this … perhaps even killed. She had to run, had to get as far away as she could ... yet what use would that be? There was nowhere for her to run and besides they would only hunt her down.

Slow clapping drew her attention, a Pureblood, who she could only assume was the Sith Lord the now dead Overseer had mentioned, stood over her. "I can sense the power of the Dark Side flowing within you, child." The Sith Lord held out a hand, "Come with me, you are now a Sith Acolyte."

Sharilia stared at the offered hand, not believing that she - a slave - was being given this chance at freedom. Her lips curled up into a smile; finally ...  _finally_  she would no longer be powerless. She would finally have control over her own life … she would finally be free. Sharilia took the Sith Lord's hand and rose to her feet ... ready to begin her new life.


End file.
